Till Death Do We Part
by bucktooth22
Summary: We both knew this is how it would end but I just wish we'd had a little more time. JOHN'S POV ONESHOT Much Angst SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest

I knew this is how it would end. We both did. I listened to him scream in my ear as the bullet pierced through me. I was too slow. I felt my body fall to the ground. I felt the warm wet feeling of blood as my side began spilling out my insides. Missed my heart. Might have nicked my lung. I coughed and felt the blood come up. Very small nick in my lung. Oh great. I get to drown slowly in my own blood. I see my attacker out of the corner of my eye as he flees and I'm left waiting for...for what? Death? Help? But then there he is. The one I've loved for years. My savior and my killer. He is the reason I was alive today and the reason I will die today. Harold limped to my side before tripping and smashing to the ground. He finished his race to me at a crawl; his hands are scraped and bloody. His glasses are cracked and he has a scratch on his cheek. I want to tell him I love him. I want to stop his tears and I want to make him go away. But if I try to talk I just cough up more blood.

"You are not dying Mr. Reese." Harold declares as he takes me into his arms. That must have helped drain some blood out of the nick in the bottom of my left lung because I can manage to talk now. My voice sounds hoarse and ragged.

"Go Harold." I mumble.

"I'm not leaving you Mr. Reese. Help is on the way." Finch replied tartly.

"Don't cry. We knew this is how it would end." I murmur.

"No!" Harold snapped at me. "You are not dying. You are going to be okay." He is trying to reassure me but I can tell it's more for himself. I start to hear sirens in the distance. Police and then ambulance. I start to see flashing lights before I have to shut my eyes.

"I am happy to have met you Harold. Thank you for teaching me how to love again." I manage to choke out as I feel myself start to cry. I'm scared. I don't want to die. I feel Finch's hand slip into mine and I stop myself from crying. It would only kill me faster. "Stay with me?" I ask urgently as I force my eyes open. I force myself to look at his broken face as he clutches my bleeding body against his chest. "Till the end? I'm scared Harold. I don't want to die."

"Don't say things like that John! You are not dying. I won't let you." Harold snapped. "I love you too and I never got to tell you. I love you John. Don't die. You can't die. Let me love you. Please. Just let me love you." Harold sobbed as he held me tighter. The medics were just starting to crowd around me and the police were shouting but over all that I could hear Harold. Crying and saying he loved me. Over and over again like a mantra. Like it would keep me from dying. We knew it would end like this. We both knew. Always. I just wish we'd had a little more time...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest.

I wonder if this is the afterlife. It's kind of bright to be honest. Probably the fire and brimstone. I hear voices, urgent and demanding all around me. I let my eyes slide shut but force my tired old body to stay awake when all it wants to do is die. Then the pain will stop. "Pass me the bone saw." One voice says. Then I hear a razor and it hurts so much. Too much. My brain clocks out and I am in darkness once again.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest.

Harold Finch couldn't bear losing him so yes, he bought a hospital and yes he ordered the best of the best to take care of his man-in-the-suit. When the head surgeon came out, clothes dripping and splattered with Mr. Reese's blood, Harold felt like he was going to throw up. But he stood up crookedly and looked the man in the eyes instead. "He died for two minutes but we brought him back. Then we started surgery and he died again for three minutes during the surgery. We brought him back but there are things that happen when someone dies." The doctor said tactlessly

"Is he ok now?" Harold asked in a clipped tone.

"He's in a coma. We're sorry but we won't have anything else until he wakes...if he does." The doctor said before he muttered an apology and something about doing all they could before shuffling off. Harold slid back into his seat, his hands were shaking and he felt like he couldn't breathe. His world was crashing down around him. When he'd recovered slightly he went to find out where John's room was. When he'd finally returned to his warrior, his fighter, he sat next to him, in a chair, clutched his hand in both of his, put his head down on the top of their hands, and cried. He cried until he had no tears left, until he had to go to the bathroom to throw up, until he had hiccups and trouble breathing.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest

I heard him cry himself to sleep. It was the first thing I was aware of, his sobs. They shook his body and left my hand wet from his tears. I forced my eyes open, forced myself to look at him, he looked to be finally calm, his dream world seeming much better than the real one. I wonder if I'm there, with him. I imagine a nice warm beach, sitting next to him, sun warming our skin, with cold drinks in our hands. They drip water from the perspiration on the outside but it's a welcome feeling. Much better than the water on my hand from his drying tears. I try to sit up only to find I'm hooked into all these machines. The only thing I can manage is to keep my eyes open. No noise, no movement, just his steady breathing, and the even beeping of my heart monitor. I drift back into darkness but this time it's different. I am no longer in a dream state, I am aware of my body as it begins convulsing, contracting, I feel the searing pain as my stitches rip open, I hear Harold calling for a nurse frantically. I hear the heart monitor go flat and then I'm gone once again.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest.

Harold heard them call it, he knew he was gone, but he kept going. Pushing into John's chest and then puffing air into his mouth, holding his nose, and then pushing harder. He didn't care if people saw his tears, didn't care how tired he looked, how frantic and insane he'd become. He just couldn't stop, couldn't let go, couldn't step back and allow John to be dead. The minutes ticked by slowly and by seven they restrained him. They told him John had woken, had tried to move and this had send his body into convulsions that had killed him. Harold screamed and cried and then, in one last vain attempt, he smashed his fist down on John's chest screaming out how he loved John. In that split second, something happened, something miraculous, and unexplainable by doctors. John, who had been dead for a total of twelve minutes, had come back to life, coughing and doing even more damage to his torn side. Harold's eyes were wide as he stared and the nurses let go, instead turning to John to get to work. They fixed him up, got him off the respirator, so that he looked like he was actually living, not just breathing and surviving off machines.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest

I looked at Harold out of the corner of my eye. He hadn't spoken to me in three days. The day he brought me back to life, he hadn't said a word. I had tried to spark conversation, even though I know neither of us is very proficient at it but he would just stare at me. Like he was afraid if he spoke I'd go back to being dead. Like he'd break me, or wake up and it would all be a dream. "It's my own fault I got shot Harold." I try, having decided it will be my last attempt to make conversation.

"I was the one that put you out there John." Harold retorted.

"So I'm being punished?" I snort disdainfully.

"Punished?" Harold asked incredulously. I remain silent. What can I say? I don't know what he's thinking. I don't know what he's going to do. If he'd talk to me I'd know what I'm arguing for...or against? I don't even know what we're talking about but he just sighs and sits back once more. He's been resigned, slumped in a chair the whole time, silent. Is he punishing himself? Knowing Harold he probably is.

"Harold?" I ask after a long time. Silence. "Do you love me?" I ask. It sounds self conscious and vain but his eyes lose their gloss and focus on me and for once, he's no longer just a shell, hollowed out by a bullet that never even touched him.

"Yes Mr. Reese." He replies in his usual formal tone. There is a long silence in which I spend debating whether or not to continue this.

"Say it." I say at last. I want to hear it. From him, rolling off his tongue, not in a frantic way, not in a worried or concerned way, not because I'm about to die. I just want to hear him say the words.

"Why Mr. Reese?" He asks frowning at me. Am I a Neanderthal to him, just muscle to back up his words?

"Please Harold?" I press. Harold's eyes glaze over and his shoulders slump slightly and he gets that despondent, far-away, resigned stare.

"I love you John." He mumbles. I must admit, I am very disappointed. I mean, public displays of affection have never really been my thing, but guys have never really been my thing either. Until Harold. How I became like this, wanting to hear him say it, sing it, shout it, declare it, is beyond me.

"Are you okay?" I continue. He looks at me, as if through a fog of his muddle thoughts.

"I lost you John." Harold says. "Please refrain from further detriment to your person." He says as he stands. I want to say something, want to cry, and want him to hold me. I feel like such a girl, such an insecure little school girl about to throw a temper tantrum. As he reaches the door, he looks over his shoulder at me. "Please." He mutters as he leaves. Am I crying? No. Am I screaming? No. Am I alive? Yes. I am injured but I pulled through so what is wrong with me? I feel like my chest is caving in. Is this what a broken heart feels like? Why do I remember this feeling? I don't like it. My sweetheart from a long time ago. A different life, a different man. I was not this back then, with her. And then she was gone and now I'm here going through it all over again. Wondering where I went wrong? I always go wrong. Is it me? Is it my fault? Should I just not try anymore? To connect to people? To be a part of society? I am its protector, his protector, but that doesn't make me one of them and that doesn't make him mine. But I want to be one of them and I want him to be mine. Should I have said that? Declared my love? Told him about my feelings? No. Feelings are weakness. I am being weak. Snap out of it John. It can never be. We can never be. It will never, can never, be. I will not be his, and he will not be mine. I am not one of them, and they will never understand me. So why do I try? Why do I live? I live for them, for him. So yes, I came back to life, and yes, I will keep living until he doesn't need me anymore. Until he doesn't want me anymore. I don't know how long I'll last, but all I need is a little more time. To make him love me. Really love me. Not just when I'm dead or dying. I can do it. Just a little more time...


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest.

I hear my monitor flat line and I'm ok with it now. He could never love me in real life. Not this fantasy we've been living, but in real life, where we both live and breathe and work, and die. I'm glad we didn't have more time, then it would hurt more. I guess I just gave up, let myself go. And I hope he keeps a special place in his heart for me, my memory, forever or maybe just a little more time than forever.


End file.
